


your chaos matches mine

by serendipitousDescent



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, F/F, Genderbending, Iwaizumi's Biceps, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Semi-Public Sex, oikawa is thirsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 08:54:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13454799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipitousDescent/pseuds/serendipitousDescent
Summary: "Soon all Iwa-chan will have to do is look at you and you'll turn into a complete mess. Not that you aren't already a complete mess. Sorry for making it sound like you aren't.""It's more of a degree thing," Matsukawa adds in. "Trying not to stare is a different degree of complete mess than literally panting on the floor.""Oh, I wonder if Iwa-chan would notice her then!"(Oikawa really wishes that Iwaizumi could stop being so attractive. It's more than just a little - or a lot - distracting.)





	your chaos matches mine

“Oh,” Tooru breathes out. 

“Do you have something to share with the rest of the class, Oikawa-san?”

Someone muffles a laugh from a couple rows behind her. 

Jealousy, Tooru tells herself, they’re just jealous of her. None of them have her beauty or her ability on a volleyball court, so of course her classmates will act against her during her brief moment of weakness. Besides, chances are that she’s the only one who caught a glimpse of Class Five out on the field. Otherwise they would have been just as captivated by Iwaizumi’s biceps while she swung that baseball bat as Tooru was. 

“Oikawa-san,” the teacher repeats. 

His tone drops meaningfully. Someone should really tell him that doing that when he’s frustrated just isn’t cute. 

Tooru beams at him anyways, certain that she appears to be sparkling when she turn on her smile. Yahaba used that word to describe her yesterday. “No, sensei, I don’t.” 

“Of course not.” 

She holds her smile for another moment, not saying a word. 

The teacher just gives her another dubious look before he turns back towards the board and carries on with the lesson. 

Her smile fades as soon as he does. Holding back when it comes to Iwaizumi is always far too difficult, especially when she’s showing off like that. At least on the court, Tooru has a tendency to get so caught up in the game itself that Iwaizumi only distracts her occasionally. Or when she’s somehow more beautiful than usual. That luxury doesn’t exist in her classroom, not while her teacher is going on about something as useless to her future as mathematics. 

Maybe Tooru needs to give Iwaizumi a firm lecture on being too much of a seductress. It would change absolutely nothing, but the look on her face would be more than worth it. Iwaizumi always gets so flustered when Tooru compliments her even just a little. 

A moment passes before her gaze drifts back over to the window. Class isn’t supposed to end for another half hour. Another half hour that Tooru should spend trying to learn math, instead of staring at the way Iwaizumi wipes the sweat off her forehead. Her head goes hazy as she imagines tasting the sweat dripping down Iwaizumi’s neck, all the while paying close attention to the gasps Iwaizumi would try to hold back. 

“Oikawa-san, how many times do I have to ask you to pay attention while I’m teaching?” 

“Sorry, sensei!”

* * *

“You’re looking a bit red there, Oikawa.” 

Tooru groans, unable to tear her gaze from the sight in front of her. 

“Trying not to imagine what it would be like to have that ass on your face?” Hanamaki continues, merciless with her casual tone. 

“No… At least not until you had to go and mention it,” she snaps.

Hanamaki just laughs at her, characteristically unaffected. “Soon all Iwa-chan will have to do is look at you and you’ll turn into a complete mess. Not that you aren’t already a complete mess. Sorry for making it sound like you aren’t.”

“It’s more of a degree thing,” Matsukawa adds in. “Trying not to stare is a different degree of complete mess than literally panting on the floor.” 

“Oh, I wonder if Iwa-chan would notice her then!” 

“Nah, she wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between Oikawa panting on the ground because she’s desperate for some Iwa-chan and Oikawa panting because she went and overworked herself again.”

“True.” Hanamaki pauses, smirking as she taps a finger against her lips. “What if we-” 

“Makki-chan, Mattsun, I swear if the two of you try to screw things up with one of your little schemes again, I will hold you personally accountable,” Tooru informs them, her voice dropping dangerously. 

“You will, will you?” Matsukawa asks, tauntingly.

“Yes! I have every intention… of...” 

Her voice fades off as Iwaizumi launches herself into the air. 

Time must slow to a stop. That is the only possible explanation for how easily her gaze latches onto Iwaizumi’s thighs, on the curve of her ass in those shorts. Then it travels up the straight line of her back to the toned mass of her shoulders, which are more than capable of lifting Tooru. A whimper escapes from her just as Iwaizumi spikes the ball, sending time back to its proper speed once more. 

Hanamaki and Matsukawa are laughing at her. It takes Tooru a long moment to remember the threat she had been in the middle of making before Iwaizumi distracted her so thoroughly, but the stone cold intent behind it has already been utterly defeated. Tooru should insult them or distract them with her charms, but that would require taking her eyes off of Iwaizumi and she can’t quite manage that much at the moment. Maybe with a bit of time, she’ll be able to. That is, if a bit of time lasts her entire life. 

Iwaizumi chooses that exact moment to turn around, pausing to raise an eyebrow in a silent question as they make immediate eye contact. Tooru rolls her eyes. The last thing Iwaizumi needs is to start worrying again. Her exasperation only partially shines through though, thanks to how warm her cheeks have gotten. 

A partial success is thankfully enough, because Iwaizumi only stares at her for a few moments longer before turning back to the rest of the team and barking an order at Kyoutani. Tooru doesn’t normally get these opportunities. Her job is to set for Iwaizumi, a step further into the game than this observatory role she has at the moment. 

Just an hour ago, Tooru thought it was a blessing, but now it feels much more like some strange, cruel torture.

“How long do you think it will take them?” Matsukawa whispers.  
Hanamaki shrugs, the exaggerated motion making Tooru twitch. “Knowing them? Could be tomorrow, could be a century from now.” 

“Damn.” 

“What?” 

“I keep thinking of all the pranks we can pull on our kouhai once they start making out in the storage room.” 

“ _Oh_ , have I told you that you’re a genius recently?” 

“You have. Please don’t hold back from telling me again, though.”

* * *

The thunderous look Iwaizumi is currently giving her probably means that she’s overdone it again. Tooru winches as Iwaizumi clenches her fists, throwing “probably” right out the window. 

Iwaizumi has found her here after practice is well and truly over for the night far too many times. Tooru normally tries to argue that they need to better than Shiratorizawa, if nothing else, but even that just rolled off of her last time. At least, it didn’t stop the lecture. Even if there’s only so much her beautiful face and Iwaizumi’s toned body can do to throw Shiratorizawa off of their game, unless they start comparing looks instead of playing volleyball. Aoba Jousai would have an unfair advantage though, so it’s better this way.

“Oi, Shittykawa!” The echoing shout makes her sigh, her head falling back against the wall. “Just how did I know that you’d still be here?” 

There might be some merit to all these lectures. Not that Tooru will ever admit it, but the ache in her knee has only been getting worse. Or at least acting up more often, which it hasn’t done since both of them were in first year and she strained it the first time around. 

But if straining her knee means she sees that furious expression Iwaizumi likes to wear, she might not be able to stop getting into these situations. Even without looking, Tooru can tell that her lips are pursed, her eyes wide with fury. There is a part of herself that loves having all of this anger directed at her. The same part that urges Tooru to just hand herself over to Iwaizumi on a silver platter. 

Tooru lifts her head up again and smiles. “There you are, Iwa-chan!” she says, brightly. None of her desires slip through. “I was beginning to wonder if you got lost.” 

Iwaizumi inhales sharply. “Lost? Neither of us are supposed to be here right now. You should be home already, and I should be well on my way back to my place!” 

“Ah, that… might be more difficult than it appears?” 

“Trashkawa, I swear-” 

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Tooru lets her grin spread further, likely just a touch too genuine. Not that Iwaizumi seems to notice. “All I need is a nice, buff arm to lean on, and it’ll be fine. I’ll even put that rub on it before I go to bed and everything.” 

Iwaizumi stares at her intently for exactly one beat of silence, before she walks the last few steps over to Tooru and purposely holds out her hand.

That is as much of an agreement as Tooru expects from her. 

And more than enough reason to grab Iwaizumi’s hand and hoist herself up. Her knee automatically weakens beneath her weight, but she knows how to sway her weight over to her other leg by now, preventing her from falling entirely. It doesn’t matter much anyways, because Iwaizumi takes one look at her and shifts to support most of her weight. 

It feels like a hot iron has been pressed against her skin, all the way from her forearm to her hip. And on the other side of her waist, right where Iwaizumi’s hand is firmly keeping her upright. Red, hot iron that prevents Tooru from thinking about anything except kissing Iwaizumi, the exact way their lips would fit together. Iwaizumi has chapped lips, Tooru abruptly remembers, a blush settling across her cheeks, because she has a bad habit of chewing at her bottom lip when she’s concentrating. 

Only luck prevents Iwaizumi from glancing over and seeing the emotion clearly written on her face as they turn off the gym lights and lock up with minimal problems. Problems that consist entirely of arguing over how to maneuver themselves like this, but problems nonetheless. 

Their pace slows as they start down the street. The setting sun just lights up Iwaizumi’s features in the best possible way, making the curve of her jaw, the sharp line of her cheekbones seem softer than they are. It’s almost enough to fool Tooru into thinking nothing could go wrong. 

“What are you doing after this?” she asks, breaking the silence. 

Iwaizumi glances over with a raised eyebrow. Their houses aren’t more than a couple blocks away now. “Studying.” 

“You’re so boring, Iwa-chan.” 

“Hey!” 

Tooru shifts more of her weight onto Iwaizumi, her tone bright. “Boring, boring, boring~” 

“You better rethink your choice of words, Trashkawa!” Iwaizumi snaps, but the bite behind her words is nearly non-existent. “I need to do well on this test tomorrow morning, not sit around watching shitty sci-fi movies.” 

That isn’t what she wanted, Tooru thinks, even as she sighs with disappointment. Who even knows why she asked in the first place, when telling Iwaizumi what she would really like to do will come to nothing.

No need to tell her childhood friend that she would prefer to have her in her bed, that she wants to see the look on her face when she’s lost in pleasure. Maybe it will look a bit like the expression Iwaizumi wears after she makes a perfect spike. Maybe Tooru will find herself incapable of looking away. No, that last bit would be a guarantee. Even her enjoyment of flirting with cute guys is minimal in comparison to anything related to Iwaizumi.

“It’s not like you’re going to fail,” Tooru whines. 

“How are we going to get into the same university if I don’t do well in my classes?” Iwaizumi asks, her frustration visibly growing by the second. “If I knew what was good for me, I’d just leave you here and let you crawl home by yourself.” 

“Iwa-chan-”

“I’m not going to!” 

“-you’re so mean to me.” 

Iwaizumi groans, her exasperation shining through as brightly as the sun through the clouds. But she’s already focused back on the road in front of them when Tooru lets the fake offense slip off her face, followed closely by her smile.

* * *

“Why don’t you just tell her?”

Tooru glances at Yahaba from the corner of her eye. This certainly is not the first time she’s caught her young protege staring at Iwaizumi in quiet contemplation. With anyone else, Tooru would be highly suspicious, but Yahaba is, and always will be, a special case. 

“I could ask you the same thing, couldn’t I?” Tooru fires back, abruptly snatching the volleyball from Yahaba’s hands. “You and Kyouken-chan have been dancing around each other for forever.” 

The immediate flush that spreads across Yahaba’s cheeks is far more satisfying than it likely should be. 

And not just because, for someone who apparently idolizes her, Yahaba is usually rather unaffected by comments like that. Comments that are meant to shock and offend, that is. It’s satisfying because watching Yahaba get flustered over another girl, in a way that’s so unlike her, is enough to remind Tooru that this happens, that this is normal. Her feelings for Iwaizumi are not weird. 

“I have, actually,” Yahaba says, boldly. 

“In your dreams?” 

Yahaba glowers at her and attempts to grab the ball back, stumbling forwards when she fails. “No! Last month. In person, even.” 

“And?” 

“Kyoutani-chan… didn’t believe me,” Yahaba admits, her chin jutting out as if to dare Tooru to say something about it. 

Perhaps Tooru’s feelings are a bit stranger than she wanted to believe. Not that it stops her from laughing, loud and bright, then from reaching over to ruffle Yahaba’s loose curls. “Exactly what I would expect from my cute kouhai.” 

“Hey!” 

“Having feelings for a brute like Kyouken-chan must be so difficult,” Tooru continues, holding back a snicker when Yahaba’s scowl only grows. 

“Kyoutani-chan isn’t a brute,” she snaps. “And it isn’t her fault that she didn’t believe me either.” 

“It’s adorable how deep you’re in, Shi-chan.” 

Her gaze flickers back over to Iwaizumi as Yahaba takes a few moments to forcibly restrain herself. As amusing as watching Yahaba struggle between her adoration of Tooru and her temper is, Tooru does know when she should stop pushing. Or at least, when she should push a little less or try a different subject. It would do Yahaba a world of good to start looking at the things she adores a bit more critically, even if Tooru will ultimately suffer because of it. Then again, there are only a few short months left of playing with Aoba Jousai.

That is the exact moment Iwaizumi looks over at them, as she waits for a her turn to serve. An amused grin stretches across her face when their eyes meet. If Tooru didn’t know any better, she would say they were sharing some sort of secret joke in that moment of eye contact. A secret that makes a noise catch in the back of her throat, even as she forces herself to smile back.

Without these moments, Tooru would not have truly fallen for Iwaizumi. Not because she wouldn’t manage to appreciate Iwaizumi’s beauty without being in love with her. Her feelings for Iwaizumi aren’t entirely based on physical attraction. The truth is always a bit more complicated than that. These moments, the ones where Tooru catches Iwaizumi off-guard and is rewarded with intimacy, remind her that she doesn’t need walls around Iwaizumi.

“How deep _I’m_ in?” Yahaba mutters, her exasperation shining through. 

Then it’s Iwaizumi’s turn to serve, and a whimper escapes from Tooru as she watches, incapable of tearing her gaze away. At this rate, Tooru won’t make it to Spring High, nevermind graduation or university after that.

* * *

“You… brought me food,” Tooru breathes out in wonder. 

Iwaizumi stares at her with an amused twitch of her lips. “You always end up sticking around to help the kids on Mondays. And because you don’t technically have practice, you never remember to pack enough food.” 

She says it so simply. 

As if her showing up after the lessons with Takeru and her friends is absolutely normal. As if her remembering that Tooru never has the foresight to pack as much food as she should on Mondays is business as usual.

For some reason, Iwaizumi looks almost more radiant than she normally does, holding out that bento box. Tooru doesn’t understand why. Or how, for that matter. There is nothing special about today, nothing about the sun and the clear skies that should make Iwaizumi’s smile a bit brighter than usual. Other than the fact that she’s smiling at all, that is. What Tooru does understand is that she never wants anyone else to see this expression, not even for a moment.

“It’s almost as if Iwa-chan is trying to take over as my mother.” 

And just like that, the smile is wiped from Iwaizumi’s face as if it were never there at all. 

Tooru can’t help the rush of relief. Not because she wants Iwaizumi to actually be her mother. But her heart finds a normal beat again when Iwaizumi scowls at her, and she can laugh at the way Iwaizumi thrusts the bento box towards her in a vaguely threatening manner. 

“Iwa-chan-” 

“I swear, if you make one more shitty comment about me being your mother,” Iwaizumi starts, her voice low. 

Tooru pretends to rethink her answer, then hastily takes the bento. “Thank you for the delicious food, Iwa-chan!”

* * *

Tooru stops and stares. 

There isn’t much else she can do, not when her brain has come to such an abrupt halt. The three hours of sleep she got last night can’t be helping, but neither does she believe that eight hours would make this any easier. 

Not when Iwaizumi is leaning against the gym doors, already in her practice clothes. It can’t be any later than six in the morning. Tooru should have at least another half hour before Iwaizumi shows up. And another forty-five minutes for the rest of the team to straggle in, holding back their yawns. 

But Iwaizumi keeps sitting there with bright red cheeks, flushed from either the cold or the jog here or… well, those are about the only options. Tooru refuses to let her mind stumble back into the gutter right now. It’s for the best when she can see the curve of Iwaizumi’s ass with her knees pressed to her chest like that. And the way she’s staring at Tooru so intensely, like Tooru might just disappear if she takes her eyes off of her.

It feels more like Iwaizumi will disappear if Tooru takes her eyes off of her.

“Oikawa, you okay?” Iwaizumi asks, almost hesitant. 

She quickly shakes her head. “I - I can’t do this anymore.” 

“The fuck are you talking about?” 

“This - you - I _can’t_ ,” come the words, just as scattered as she feels. But Iwaizumi is standing up, her complicated expression not clearing, and Tooru takes in a shaky breath. “How do you keep doing this to me?” 

“I… just showed up to practice early,” Iwaizumi answers, almost a question.  
It isn’t the response Tooru is looking for. 

That isn’t Iwaizumi’s fault. These emotions - this _misunderstanding_ is all because Tooru hasn’t made any indication of her feelings. She’s beginning to see the point Yahaba was trying to make. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so dismissive of her kouhai. 

Tooru has no intentions of being outdone by Yahaba either. 

The distance between her and Iwaizumi seems much larger than it has any right to, now that Tooru is set on closing it. Each step fills her with more hesitation, making her a bit less certain. Things are so much simpler when Tooru keeps her mouth shut, regardless of how painful it gets. 

But the need to do something about these feelings bursting inside of her has far surpassed the logic of keeping things simple. And Iwaizumi does absolutely nothing to stop her. No rearing backwards or stepping to the side. All she does is stare up in faint surprise when Tooru clutches her shirt, the only warning before Tooru surges forward. 

It isn’t exactly like Tooru imagined it would be. Their teeth knock together painfully due to her eagerness, and leaning down is more awkward than the movies make it look. Her cheeks still flush though, and her lips tingle in a way that makes her want more and more and more. Only that hesitation from before lets her pull back, her fingers trembling as they stay tangled in Iwaizumi’s shirt.  
Iwaizumi is staring at her.

Tooru doesn’t know what she expected. 

Maybe to be pushed away or for Iwaizumi to sigh and calmly reject her, as if she’s been putting it off for years. That would be the most likely response, regardless of what Hanamaki and Matsukawa think. 

Neither of those things happen. Iwaizumi just inhales, slow and deep, then carefully switches their positions, Tooru mindlessly following until her back hits the door. 

Tooru should tease Iwaizumi about the good handful of centimetres between their heights. Normally, she would. But right now, she can’t summon up so much as a single word. Not after what she just did, and not with the intense look in Iwaizumi’s eyes, making her bottom lip tremble. 

Iwaizumi tilts her head up, her breath ghosting against Tooru’s lips. “Now, really?” 

“Iwa-chan,” Tooru breathes out.

“I’ve been waiting for you to make up your damn mind for years,” she continues, as if Tooru hadn’t said a word. “Do you know how close I came to inviting you over and not letting you leave until you knew exactly how I felt? But no, I had to make sure you were ready. That you wanted this.” 

Tooru inhales sharply, her cheeks reddening at the thought. 

If nothing else, it makes Iwaizumi pause. Then her eyes darken as she takes Tooru in, the distance between them everything and nothing simultaneously. Tooru lets her gaze drop down to Iwaizumi’s lips. They’re still a dark red from their awkward kiss just moments ago, begging Tooru for an encore. 

But for once, Tooru is not the one in control of this situation.

“I wasn’t doing either of us a favour by holding back, was I?” Iwaizumi asks, her voice rough.

“Iwa-chan.” Tooru attempts to sound indignant, but the words don’t come out anywhere near that. “Even my teachers know about my feelings for you. Or I assume they do, because they’ve been trying to get me to concentrate during your gym class since first year.” 

“Ah, I really have made some mistakes then.” 

Iwaizumi wastes no more time in closing that small distance between them.  
It’s still awkward, but not like it had been before. It’s awkward in that Tooru doesn’t really know what to do with her mouth other than eagerly press back, gasping into it when something runs across her bottom lip.

Tooru had almost forgotten that Iwaizumi dated some guy for most of their second year. Forgotten, but only in that she’d purposely blanked out just what that meant. She would never forget how Iwaizumi quietly admitted that she didn’t really like him after all, how the next words out of her mouth were a confession about being attracted to women. It changed her perspective on a lot of things, really. 

And now those few months of Iwaizumi being in a relationship have once more changed her perspective on things. Most importantly in that experience really makes things easier. 

Second on that list is that Tooru has no intentions of ever letting someone else kiss Iwaizumi again.

“Iwa-chan,” she exhales, when Iwaizumi draws back for what seems like the umpteenth time today.

“I - we need to find somewhere a bit more private. It’s early, but who knows when someone else will show up.” 

Her eyes blink open, although Tooru can’t quite recall when she closed them. The concept of getting caught doesn’t catch her attention, so much as the deep flush across Iwaizumi’s cheeks does. Let the world see them. Tooru has every intention of showing off her new relationship with Iwaizumi every chance she gets.

But Iwaizumi is also anxiously glancing down the path, as if anyone other than the two of them would show up an entire hour before practice. Showing off can wait until later, Tooru abruptly decides. 

“You mentioned something about locking me up earlier? There’s always the equipment room, if you’d like to do that,” Tooru says, her voice coming out rougher than expected.

“Not locking-” Iwaizumi cuts herself off and licks her lips. “Yeah, I’d like that.” 

“Then I don’t know what we’re waiting for.” 

Iwaizumi takes in a wavering breath as Tooru reaches for her hand. She pretends not to hear it, if only because acknowledging it will mean never getting inside. As it is, Tooru should be more concerned about how she’ll concentrate in class later, but that feels like an eternity away.

It takes a few long moments for her to remember the gym keys sitting in her pocket, the rest of her stuff already abandoned in the club room until class starts. Iwaizumi rests a hand on her hip the entire time she fumbles with them and the lock, half a step behind her as she finally gets inside. The contact is heated, heated and purposeful. Each step towards the equipment room feeds the warmth filling her from head to toe. 

Not that anything other than the knowledge that Iwaizumi wants her is necessary to do that. 

Iwaizumi steps in front of her to open the equipment room door, then closes it purposely behind them. The door locks with a soft click, the following silence suffocating until Tooru starts to grope at the wall for the light switch. 

Then they’re drowning in light. Neither of them do much more than stare at each other as Tooru lets her hand fall back to her hip. The knowledge that Tooru can drag her lips across the hint of Iwaizumi’s collarbones in sight is just a bit too much to comprehend. And Tooru is certainly trying to comprehend. Just as she’s trying not to visualize slipping her fingers beneath the waistband of those shorts quite yet. 

“C’mon,” - Tooru startles at the sudden broken silence - “you’re not going to keep me waiting after all that talk, are you?” 

She stubbornly juts out her chin. “Maybe I should.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“See what you think when I’ve thoroughly enjoyed myself and you’re left-” 

Her words are cut off in a strangled gasp as Iwaizumi all but attacks her, hands disappearing beneath her thin t-shirt. They burn her skin, even as they drag her shirt upwards, revealing the toned expanse of her stomach to the room. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Iwaizumi murmurs, her amusement seeping through, even with how thick her voice has gotten. “If you wanted me to pamper you like the Grand Queen you think you are, you could have just said something.” 

“Fine. Pamper me, Iwa-chan, if that’s what you really want,” Tooru manages to get out.

Iwaizumi grins at her. “It’ll be my pleasure.” 

Just like that, her hands move up, pulling the shirt over her head. Not that Iwaizumi stops there, not when she is suddenly fascinated by the thick elastic of Tooru’s sports bra. The look Iwaizumi gives her is telling, and Tooru doesn’t have to concentrate to recall bragging about the lacy underwear set she bought herself a couple weeks ago. Neither half of which she’s wearing now, because she didn’t exactly expect to be attacked by Iwaizumi like this. 

Hoped for is another reality, altogether. 

But Iwaizumi manages not to verbally comment on it as she works the bottom elastic up and over her breasts. Exposed is likely the right word for what Tooru feels, put out on display. All she can focus on, though, is the flush of her cheeks and the hands on her breasts. 

It already feels so different from anything Tooru has done to herself. Before, she had thought her breasts rather insensitive, but Iwaizumi is quickly proving that belief to be wrong. How Iwaizumi pulls tiny gasps out of her lungs shouldn’t be fair. Nothing about Iwaizumi or this situation feels particularly fair.

All thought disappears when Iwaizumi leans down and buries her face in Tooru’s breasts. Her thighs waver at the heat coming from Iwaizumi sucking at the sensitive skin. At the sight of Iwaizumi thoroughly enjoying giving her this much attention, with lips wrapping around her nipple and hands cupping her breasts. Tooru has no choice but to grip Iwaizumi’s waist just to keep herself upright, fingers trembling. 

Iwaizumi mutters a curse as she travels upwards and reaches the elastic of  
Tooru’s bra once more. “You okay if I take this off?” 

Tooru nods wordlessly, not that it matters much. Iwaizumi is already starting to pull her bra up and over her head, and it’s easier just to let her do it. At least, that’s what Tooru tells herself. It has absolutely nothing to do with enjoying the way Iwaizumi takes care of her so readily. Nothing to do with how Tooru has always loved the stubborn affection Iwaizumi shows her whenever she has to be taken care of.

Then the bra is gone and Tooru is almost entirely bared to Iwaizumi. Maybe not for the first time in her life, but definitely the first time with Iwaizumi watching her quite like this. It only makes sense that her vision goes a bit hazy when lips press against the side of her neck without warning, sucking slow and deliberate patterns into her skin. 

Her breath catches as Iwaizumi leaves a trail of lingering heat behind her, filling in the valley of her shoulder with a quiet intensity. It feels like no time has passed at all when Iwaizumi reaches her collarbone and beyond, and her hands tightly grasp the thin material of Iwaizumi’s shirt.

This really just isn’t fair. 

Tooru can’t deny the desire to be pampered, but the temptation to touch Iwaizumi back grows more difficult to resist. The amount of times she’s pictured cupping Iwaizumi’s small breasts in her hands likely far outweighs the times Iwaizumi has done the same. At least outweighs that by a little. The ability to properly think things through left Tooru about ten, maybe fifteen minutes ago. And she certainly hasn’t been keeping track of the time either. 

But her knees falter beneath her weight before she has the opportunity to properly reciprocate. Iwaizumi gently eases her to the pile of gym mats in the corner, almost as if she had been expecting this from the beginning. It would be an amazing plan, if that were the case. Tooru would have to praise her foresight. 

“Iwa-chan,” Tooru huffs, her grip moving up to Iwaizumi’s shoulders for support as she stumbles backwards. 

Iwaizumi carefully watches her sit on the mats. “Hm?” 

Let me touch you, is what Tooru has every intention of saying. Let me properly return your affections, would probably be a better way of wording it. I just really want to bury my face between your thighs and never come up for air, is how she would prefer to say it. None of that comes out in something intelligible. 

Except then Iwaizumi straddles her hips, her back dropping down to the mats. Having the air knocked out of her should be enough of an excuse for when Tooru has suddenly lost the ability to breathe. But that does not explain the low whine that leaves her lips at the sight of Iwaizumi above her. The flush from her cheeks is well on its way down her neck when Iwaizumi smirks down at her, looking every bit comfortable right where she is. 

As if Tooru could deny her this now. Even if she weren’t personally affected by this positioning, Tooru can’t deny Iwaizumi a single thing when she’s looking down at her like this. 

“When did you turn into such a pervert?” Tooru asks, instead. 

“Ah.” There’s an odd look in Iwaizumi’s eyes as she thinks it over, far too seriously for the question asked of her. “Probably sometime around when we got our volleyball uniforms for Seijou, if I remember correctly.” 

Tooru gapes up at her.

“I know, I know. You’ve just always-” 

“Iwa-chan, I swear, if you don’t do something right now, I will sneak into your house tomorrow in the middle of the night. While I’m wearing that uniform. And you won’t be allowed to take it off until I’ve well and truly had my way with you.” 

A strangled noise escapes the back of Iwaizumi’s throat, her eyes darkening as she stares down at Tooru. “Is that supposed to be some sort of threat, Oikawa?” 

“Tooru.” 

Before Iwaizumi can say another word, Tooru shifts her arms so that they’re firmly situated around Iwaizumi’s neck and tugs her downwards. Their lips meet in the middle, messy and open-mouthed, as if Tooru might just find the victory she craves inside her mouth. Soft is not the word that comes to mind. Soft is for people who crave something slow and tantalizing, while Tooru needs something fast and desperately. 

She no longer wants to be able to tell the difference between her lips and Iwaizumi’s, between the places where their hips and inner thighs tough, between the heat radiating off of them. All Tooru wants - needs, even - is Iwaizumi pressed against her, gasping into her mouth, inside of her. The tipping point should be both far away and suffocatingly close. Her world should narrow down to just Iwaizumi.

For now, she uses the kiss as a distraction to slip her hand beneath Iwaizumi’s shirt. Iwaizumi immediately draws back from their kiss, inhaling so sharply that Tooru nearly thinks she overstepped some boundary. But there can be no mistaking that heavy heat in her gaze as she stares down, her lips still parted. 

Tooru smirks. 

There will always be a part of her that revels in teasing Iwaizumi. Just a small, constant poke in one direction or another, because that brings out the intensity of Iwaizumi’s emotions. Either the shouting when Tooru does something that truly bothers her or the frustrated scowl that comes when Iwaizumi has listened to the same bad joke over and over again.

Tooru almost expects either of those things to happen now. But Iwaizumi just inhales sharply and leans back. Her fingers brush against Tooru’s hand as she grasps the bottom hem of her shirt and pulls it up over her head. 

They inevitably break eye contact then, although there is a crook to Iwaizumi’s lips when she tosses her shirt to the ground. Then Tooru drops her gaze, unable to stop herself from staring at Iwaizumi’s breasts. Just the thin material of her sports bra separates Tooru from them. Her hands rise, ghosting the long length of Iwaizumi’s sides and making her breath catch in the process. Tooru does not stop there. Fiddling with the elastic of her sports bra is far too tempting for that, a finger or two slipping beneath it. 

“Oi, you think we have enough time for that shit?” Iwaizumi asks, her voice low. “The others will be here soon.”

Tooru huffs, her bottom lip falling into a pout. “Hajime.” 

“Later.” 

“Later?” Her cheeks were already a deep red, but Tooru tries for another smirk now, although it falters with thoughts of the future. “You planning something for us, Ha-ji-me?” 

This time, it’s Iwaizumi’s turn to flush brightly. “Not anything more than what we already had planned. You were coming over this weekend to help apartment search, remember? And my parents are going to my aunt’s place, because of her new baby.” 

“Oh,” Tooru exhales. 

“We could always wait until-” 

She snorts, derisively. “Not a chance.” 

Iwaizumi relaxes again, laughing lowly before leaning down to kiss her once more. Urgency meets both of them like this, thoughts of the future, of a conceivable later whirling through the heads and making the heat within them grow. Tooru pushes up into the kiss, desperate for the slightest leverage on Iwaizumi. She doesn’t get any. It will be different this weekend though, when she can switch things around.

After all, her intentions fully involve teasing Iwaizumi into submission, now that she know it’s a possibility. 

The tips of Iwaizumi’s fingertips brush along her lower stomach, making her gasp and jerk at the sudden contact. That is all the warning she gets before they slip beneath both her shorts and her underwear. Her vision - no, her awareness of the world - goes hazy, narrowing down to Iwaizumi’s hand. The way Iwaizumi slows her kisses doesn’t help either. 

Not much could possibly distract Tooru from the hand shoved down her shorts though, unmoving but undeniably there nonetheless. Heat spreads up and out from her core, impossible to ignore. Impossible to stop her hips from rolling forwards in small circles, seeking any sort of friction the motion could grant her. It isn’t enough. Tooru has neither the vantage point or the willpower to chase after more than this faint wisp of friction. 

Then Iwaizumi presses down, two of her fingers putting pressure against Tooru’s entrance. It draws a long whimper out of her, immediately devoured by Iwaizumi’s waiting lips. 

Iwaizumi, the only defining thing around her, must know what Tooru needs.

More.

More. 

More. 

“Iwa-chan,” she murmurs against soft lips, “please.” 

The noise that comes out of Iwaizumi can only be part laughter and part moan. “You - want to say that again?” 

“ _Please,_ ” - Iwaizumi’s first name only occurs to Tooru again as the first syllable leaves her mouth, and she forces herself to open her eyes - “Hajime.” 

Relief is immediate. Both in the form of Iwaizumi working her fingers in slow, hard circles around Tooru and the shuddering moan pressed against her lips, a final break in Iwaizumi’s composure. 

Heat builds much more quickly than before, heavy and attention-grabbing, and yet not quite enough to push Tooru over the edge. A litany of pleas slip from her lips, half-coherent in that even Tooru can hardly understand them herself. Iwaizumi must. That is the only way to explain how she carefully slows her pace further, pressure increasing until her fingers are almost thrusting in and out of Tooru in full. Either that or Tooru has been thoroughly consumed by her, neither of them discernable from the other.

Then Iwaizumi shifts her hand, just ever so slightly, and a sharp spike of pleasure travels her head to her toes. Her pleading is cut off by one last faltering cry, her back arching up into Iwaizumi as her vision goes white. 

When Tooru finally blinks through the pleasure, Iwaizumi is only half on top of her. She would probably be entirely so, if it were for the awkward size of the mats and the otherwise small room. Her tongue swipes over her bottom lip, and Iwaizumi tracks the movement with heated eyes. Seeing Iwaizumi so thoroughly debauched from her own doing is something Tooru will likely never get used to, not even in a million years. 

If she does, well, then they’ll just have to find a way to mix things up a bit. 

“Iwa-chan,” Tooru exhales, softly. “I really want to lick you open right now.” 

“Wh-what?” 

A laugh escapes her. “Lick you. Down there. Preferably with your thighs around-” 

“We don’t have time for that right now! Someone will-” 

“Oikawa, you in here?” comes a vaguely distant shout. 

Both of them freeze, despite themselves. 

That voice could have only been Hanamaki’s and if Hanamaki is around, then Matsukawa won’t be far behind. Tooru lets her head drop as the chances of them not getting found out dwindle away to nothing. Both of them leaving the equipment room at the same time is just too obvious. Hanamaki and Matsukawa would be onto them within seconds. 

Iwaizumi still scrambles off of the mats, frantically reaching for her shirt and pulling it back on again. Tooru finds herself doing the same, even if it’s at a slightly slower pace. Everything is warm and fuzzy to the point where her worries about getting teased by Hanamaki and Matsukawa disappear into nothing. They shouldn’t bother trying to hide things from their best friends, anyways.

Tooru breathes in deeply as Iwaizumi reaches for the door. “Wait a moment.” 

“Huh?” 

“I… still have every intention of getting your thighs around my head, Iwa-chan,” she says, resolutely. The look Iwaizumi gives her is somewhat awed, right before it’s interrupted by a sharp snort. “I know you’ll be thinking about it all day too.” 

The crook to Iwaizumi’s grin is just as captivating as it’s always been. “If that’s how you want to go down, you just had to say so, Shittykawa.” 

“I-Iwa-chan!”

**Author's Note:**

> "You never told me why you showed up to practice so early." 
> 
> "Shut up." 
> 
> "Iwa-chan?" 
> 
> "It doesn't matter." 
> 
> "Tell me!" 
> 
> "I had a dream about you last night, alright? I just didn't want to wait until practice to see you!"
> 
> "You had a _sex_ dream about me?" 
> 
> "What - no - agh!"


End file.
